I don't remember how you look

Old thoughts and the desires to remember faces lost in time.

                                I don't remember how you look

I don't remember how you look.
Your eyes were blue, maybe hazel green?
I don't know if your hair was golden blond or
maybe strawberry red?

I tried to describe you and each time I remember less.

I tried to envision you in my mind.
Each time I try. I remember less.

Sometime I dream of grasping your long hair.
Our bodies fighting each other for the sake of pure
pleasure only.
You calling out my name.
Sweet words of love spoken in the turmoil of sex.
Just kind words to reward the fulfillment of the body.
Not the heart.

I yearn to see you still.
Your hello's were so sweet.
The goodbyes were long and written deep on the
walls of my heart.

I remember your long legs and tan body.
You dressed like a woman but
had the hunger of a child seeking the
education of the tongue, the touch and the long ride.

I don't know if you remember me.
I still seek and long for you in sweet dreams.
I didn't know your hunger and fierce desire  was
to become my curse.

I lost you a long time ago on a December morning.
I became old as I left you to escape to California with
tears and not enough words spoken.

I release you for my hunger was to love you forever.
You were seeking a place to rest your head till you
were strong enough to run again.

I still wish for your gentle knock on my door.
To wrap my arms around you and encircle your life
with love and hope.

In sweet dreams are when fairytale endings can come true.
Enchanted nights become splendid day.
Noble love is worshiped and cherished.

Real life leave us in decay and betrayed.
Old men dig up old ashes of dead love.
Beloved woman become true siren for the desperate writer.

The moonlit night allowed me to make one sober wish.
I wish to see you. To remember how you look.

                     Written in 1990/ rewrote in 2014

Author's Note

Old poetry with a re-write

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

Wow. This one is for sure another favourite of mine of your amazing poetry. I read it aloud and I was caught in the richness and complexity of this romantic world you weave. It is a true gift, to feel like this, to pour out that truth in words that leave people reeling and breathless. What a wonderful write. For those bothering to stop by trivia and passing you by in their travels, they are truly missing out.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend. I enjoyed the journey into good memory with the old poetry.

[Pryde Foltz]

We may forget how they look but never how they made us feel. Superb write, Coyote.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right. Good memories become gold with time. Thank you Pryde for reading and the comment.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

This is a classic piece in every respect - we(humans) often only remember the feelings we had at that time or even the smell of the moment, faces as you rightly state fade, well done, great read.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right Thomas. Old memories can reappear. Old song can take you back to the good days. Thank you my dear friend for stopping by.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Your welcome

[AK]

This poem has a feel to it that makes it perfect for its title 'I don't remember how you look'. It screams of longing and yearning, the 'old times' and washed out memories. I really loved how the poem began with the present of not remembering a face, revisiting the past and times together and returning to the present and purpose of the piece.

The poem sounds very lyrical and the diction is impeccable. The tone of the poem is something I have never experienced myself, forgetting someone important to me, making this a whole new exploratory journey.

Thank you for sharing this extraordinary piece-

AK

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Ak. Just old memories put on paper and now the internet.

[RG]

Everyone has people in their lives whom they want to remember but the memories keep fading. I don't have anyone like my first love but i indeed had a friend when i was small. She shifted the town while we were in school and we lost touch.

"I don't know if you remember me.
I still seek and long for you in sweet dreams."

Nice work. Keep writing :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you RG. Would be nice if we kept in contact with people. The mystery of people left behind keep us looking back.

[SUGATA M]

This is so nice. The feelings are fresh and honest. Your poem reminded me my first love that happened 25 years back. She is still there in my mind though her physical appearance has already become obscure. Your poems just touched my heart.

[Coyote Poetry]

This poem is for a girl I knew in 1978. First love is never forgotten. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Pryde Foltz]

Real life leave us in decay and betrayed.
Old men dig up old ashes of dead love.
Beloved woman become true siren for the desperate writer.

The moonlit night allowed me to make one sober wish.
I wish to see you. To remember how you look.

Really, really beautiful verse.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Pryde. The old poetry locked up become better with time.

[Pryde Foltz]

You gotta love when that happens.

[Lydia Shutter]

“You dressed like a woman but
had the hunger of a child seeking the
education of the tongue, the touch and the long ride.”

You describe a sort of Lolita....a woman you surely will never forget even if you have forgotten the details of her looks. You remember her passion and compare the passion of other women to hers....of course, you know things often seem better in memory. Does she remember you? I have a feeling she does, Coyote. We all hope for that fairy tale ending....the end of the romance novel when the old lover we have thought about for years re-enters our lives. In real life though, that rarely happens. She will have to live on in your dreams on moonlit nights and truly, whether her hair was red or blonde matters little now. The romantic longing is palpable in this write, Coyote. Wonderful work. Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Lydia. Some people hold more energy and hope. They can become sweet dreams in old age.

[emmajoy]

From first word to last- a mix of emotions that lead to treasure: ' The moonlit night allowed me to make one sober wish.~ I wish to see you. To remember how you look.'

This is just maybe, perhaps, the best of your poems, and, have read so many. There's a sad, sad beauty about the memory of a very special woman, someone who even now makes you want, makes you long to see, to feel. That's the call of real love, needing to feel and do the things you write so passionately of. And there's amazing tenderness, a sitting back with a smile on your lips, a tear in the corner of an eye. Beautiful.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Emma Joy. A very old poem. I'm digging in my old journals.

[emmajoy]

Been doing same, deleted so many.. have too many in here .. many i don't even recognise and too many are nothing more thany rubbish .. :)

Your poem above is, breathtakingly beautiful ... so many layers of thoughts and feelings.

[MsJewel]

It is sad how some memories start to fade - I wonder if eventually they will fade completely away..I hope not.

You have a lovely memory to hold on to - keep it close to your heart.

:) Julie

[Coyote Poetry]

Time can steal from our memory. That is why I recommend a journal. A journal for memories. Can be pass on to future generations. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Ascending]

Beautiful poem. I see unrequited love. This women was in lust while you were in love, yet you still yearn for her.

[Coyote Poetry]

Love and life is never fair. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Ascending]

You're welcome.